


In The Evening

by sommarpatriot



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 08:44:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18634732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sommarpatriot/pseuds/sommarpatriot
Summary: Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, idiots on the frontlines.





	In The Evening

**Author's Note:**

> contains mentions of torture

Steve is always so _loud_ during. It was a problem back in Brooklyn, with thin walls and their neighbours’ thinner patience, but it’s downright dangerous out here, a hair away from being discovered and killed by nazis. Maybe he gets off on it, though, the thrillseeker that he is. Bucky can’t say it doesn’t do anything for him, and on top of the way Steve clenches around him it’s almost too much every time.

“Fuck, fuck, Bucky,” Steve cries, pushing back as Bucky snaps his hips forward, trying to get him as deep as possible, as if he wants Bucky to break him in half. He clutches onto the tree he’s braced against with one hand, the other on Bucky’s hip trying to urge him on. “Deeper, c’mon, faster, god, just fuck me,” and Bucky laughs. If only the American people knew what a dirty mouth he has.

“Wouldja shut it, Rogers? Fuck me, pal, you’re gonna wake the dead.” Bucky hisses it into the back of Steve’s neck, biting down on the last word, which only serves to make Steve moan louder. 

“Come _on_ Bucky, _please_. I’m not gonna cry, you know.”

“You stub your toe and you cry for a week,” Bucky counters, but he does as he’s asked, fucking Steve good and proper until they’re both bent over near enough to be horizontal, until Steve’s out of breath enough he can’t make any noise.

The thing is, Bucky loves this. He can’t get enough of it, and apparently neither can Steve. When they discovered how good it could be between them, more than just hands on each other or sucking each other off, when Bucky slid into Steve so carefully that first time, it turned their world upside down. They started sneaking off every chance they could get, meeting up early before every dinner or going back to Steve’s after church just to fuck each other stupid, until eventually they moved in together and they could do it all the time. 

As the years went on they learned to temper themselves, to be smart about it, to not want it so much, because it wasn’t something they were supposed to want. It didn’t stop Bucky thinking about it all the time, imagining a life where Steve could be his in a way that society accepted, and it made him feel stupid knowing that was a world they didn’t live in, so it wasn’t worth wondering about. And then Bucky shipped off, and Steve joined the army, and even though Bucky was so sure he died in that lab, died and went to heaven, maybe, because Steve was there too, he didn’t stop imagining. It was all that got him through what they were doing to him, Steve’s name on the back of his tongue, safe and secure, keeping him sane, just thinking about a world where they didn’t have to hide.

But that isn’t the world they live in. Bucky has to stuff his fingers in Steve’s mouth to stop him crying out and waking up the others. It’s so stupid of them. Any kraut could sneak up on them, and here they are, like this, even though Bucky’s got one eye on the camp. They make each other stupid. 

Afterwards, they don’t get an afterglow. Not out here, with other people around, surrounded by trees that have eyes. They pull their pants up from their ankles, tuck their shirts in, and that’s it. That’s all they allow themselves, a quick six minutes of needing each other in the worst way, before they bring themselves back to the situation at hand. 

But as Bucky’s shouldering his rifle, taking a step back towards the camp, Steve pulls him back in. He kisses Bucky like there’s nothing more he wants to do, and it’s all Bucky can do to not pull away. It’s dangerous to be like this, out here, in the line of fire. They’ve got bullseyes on their backs and thousands of men counting on them, and all they can think about is each other.

“Steve,” Bucky warns, and Steve sighs. “Time to wake up Morita.”

“Can I just get another minute?” Steve asks, and Bucky pulls away. “Fine. Okay. I get it, we’re doomed, but, shit. Just kiss me, will you?”

He can barely make out Steve’s features in the moonlight, but he knows that tone and the expression that goes along with it. He’s glad he can’t see it, because it would damn near break his heart.

“Steve, come on. You know the drill.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve sighs again, and pushes Bucky towards the camp. “Smartass.”

When they reach where the others are sleeping, they find Morita awake, crunching a sugar cube and pretending like he didn’t hear them. He clears his throat, nodding towards Steve. “Captain,” he says, then, “Sergeant.”

“Jim,” Steve says in his reassuring Captain tone. It’s almost like the last ten minutes didn’t happen. Maybe they were just chucking a piss behind a tree. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“In this cold, who can?”

Steve claps him on the back and heads toward his sleeping kit. Bucky stays where he is, dropping onto one of the logs. Steve looks back, but Bucky doesn’t have it in him tonight to pretend everything’s okay. “Mind if I keep watch with you?” he asks Morita, who shrugs.

“Be my guest,” Morita says. He lights a cigarette that they pass between them, keeping easy company until the sun rises and so do the others.


End file.
